Chemical
by Mahersal
Summary: She hated him. He hated her. But they were made for each other—literally. Neither knew that. They balanced each other. It was two halves of a whole. They were chemically attracted to each other, no matter how much they resisted. And resist they did. He could leave again. She could ignore his existence. It didn't make a difference. Chemical X would win. Reds one-shot.


Oh yeah, I'm doing this.

I'm going to do a series of PPG/RRB one-shots, one for each color. That should satisfy my PPG craving I've been having lately.

I have a RRB one-shot about them coming back while in high school. It's overdone, I know, but I just couldn't have three random one-shots without a reason of their return/without them coming back in general. I'd read that before this.

Random Maggie info that doesn't make sense is random.

Note: /…\ means switching from one person to another

Disclaimer: I don't own PPG.

* * *

**Chemical**

She hated him.

She never used that word lightly. Hate is a strong word that you only use when you truly mean it. Except she had good reasons.

He tried to kill her. Twice. He almost succeeded. Twice.

Then he left without a trace. She couldn't complain. _Good riddance. _He was a pest, a mockery, and a filthy little toad who just liked to pick on girls because girls had _cooties._

Without warning he returned. But he didn't try to kill her, or at least he didn't let on if he wanted to. She didn't want to be friends with him. They shared classes and that was it. He was the enemy. He was evil. He was for everything she was against.

She hated him.

Or she wanted to.

As time went on, she'd notice little things about him. His sharp jawline. His red hair tied back in a neat ponytail, never a hair out of place. His red hat always on his head. How he never paid attention in class yet still got top grades. How he'd tap his pencil and look out the window. How he'd constantly doodle in his notebook. How he'd be polite and civil with everyone. How he'd take pictures of everything. How his rare smiles made her heart flutter. How he always seemed to wear clothes that defined his muscles. How she'd sometimes catch him looking at her. It was as if Fate didn't _want _her to hate him as much as she wanted to. Even after all the horrible things he did to her, her family, her _city, _she couldn't help but feel _drawn_ to him.

She hated it.

/…\

He hated her.

He tried to kill her. Twice. He failed. Twice.

So he left. Six-year-old boys don't have the best mind-set to kill people. All they want to do is cause destruction, pick on cootie-infected girls, and roll around in garbage, mud, slime, and anything else that made a mess.

When he was good and ready he came back, knowingly aware of who he was up against. But that didn't matter. He was stronger. He was _always _stronger. He didn't need to kill her right away; what fun was it to kill an enemy you scarcely know? He didn't want to be friends with her. They shared classes and that was it. He wasn't there to study school; he did well anyway. He was there to study _her._ She was a pest, a busybody, and a know-it-all leader snob.

He hated her.

As time went on, however, his studying of her wasn't just of how she fought the scarce criminals and monsters or how she'd command her sisters about. He started to notice little things. Her soft, heat-shaped face. Her long hair always tied neatly in a ponytail. Her big red bow, ridiculous and suiting, placed strategically in her hair. How she was always so kind and helpful to people. How she was brave. How she scored top grades by studying even when she didn't have to. How her eyebrows knit together and her nose scrunched up when she was confused. How her smile stirred his gut. How he'd sometimes catch her looking at him. It was like Fate didn't agree with his hatred toward her. Even with the whole purpose of his existence and her overbearingness, he couldn't help but feel _drawn _to her.

He hated it.

/…\

They _hated _each other.

They _wanted _to hate each other

They hated they _couldn't _hate each other.

_They hated they were attracted to each other._

Yet there was nothing either could do about it. They challenged each other. They felt out of their element.

At the same time it just felt _natural _to be with each other. Even just sitting next to each other in class felt right. Neither could deny it.

They did anyway.

The fight wasn't won, but it wasn't lost. No matter how hard either protested or resisted, they both would fall.

Neither knew, but they were chemically made like that. Chemically attracted to one another. Practically made for each other. Both could fight. He could leave again. She could ignore his existence. It didn't make a difference.

Chemical X would win.

* * *

This actually came out different than how I first imagined it, but I like the turnout. I hope you do too!

Review?

Over and out,

Mahersal


End file.
